


in case of love at first sight

by larrytale



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Cody simpson is there, First Dates, Love at First Sight, i guess??, i seriously am lacking on tags here, metaphorically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-15
Updated: 2014-06-15
Packaged: 2018-02-04 19:17:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1790242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/larrytale/pseuds/larrytale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>He stops with a skid in front of the red box, the stupid red box that contains the rose he longs to give the beautiful boy behind the counter.</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  <em>He looks around quickly for something to break the glass with, expecting to see a metal bar or something, but instead finds nothing. Louis laughs at himself again, and honestly, he can’t believe he’s doing this, but he bends down and unties his shoe anyway, looking around hastily before smashing the bottom of his shoe into the glass. </em></p><p>Based off <a href="http://donnysoldier.tumblr.com/post/87834712509/louis-doesnt-believe-in-love-at-first-sight-at">this</a> post</p>
            </blockquote>





	in case of love at first sight

**Author's Note:**

> first things first, the speech louis makes (youll know when you get to it) is from [here](http://thewastedgeneration.tumblr.com/post/69036676536/i-want-to-know-your-birthday-and-your-parents-jobs) so yeah
> 
> also thanks to [sabrina](http://strangenewfriends.tumblr.com/) for writing out the tags in the first place, thus leading to this
> 
> thats all i have to say ok see ya

Louis’ day turns to shit the same moment his gum goes stale in his mouth.

He trips over a curb trying to run to his office building because he’s _super_ late and he didn’t have time to brush his teeth this morning so he just stuck a piece of gum in his mouth but he _knew_ it would be stale, he _knew,_ but he was so damn desperate that he threw it in his mouth anyway. His hair falls flat against his forehead and he flips it out of his eyes as he straightens out, pulling his shirt straight as he crosses the street and hops up onto a different sidewalk.

His messenger bag bounces against his hip as he pushes the door open, effectively startling the familiar secretary who sits behind the front desk.

“Good morning, Louis,” She drawls with a smile that says she is all too aware of his impending struggle.

“Hey, Heather.” He grits out, rushing past her and twisting down the hall and then up the stairs.

He clocks in with one minute left to spare.

+

“Louis,” A pause. “Louis. Louis?”

Louis pencil tip snaps and breaks against the paper. “What?” He practically growls.

Niall pauses for a second, “I was just going to tell you that you probably, uh, shouldn’t put that much pressure on the pencil,” He says awkwardly.

Louis sighs and pushes his char away from his desk, digging the heel of his hands into his eyes. “I’m sorry mate, just a bit strung up.”

“It’s alright, we all get like that sometimes.” And honestly, Niall must be some child of the Lord because Louis knows he must be shit company in a tiny cubicle, but Niall has put up with him without complaint. “Wanna go drinking sometime?”

Louis and Niall have been out clubbing before, which was a lot more fun than Louis would admit out loud in the middle of their workplace, but he’s just not in the mood for it.

“No thanks,” He declines politely. “I’m going to try to do something productive, as in, something that doesn’t involve alcohol.”

Niall smiles and reaches over, patting Louis’ shoulders sympathetically. “Well, if you change your mind, I’ll be 4 inches to your left.”

Louis lets out a genuine laugh at that, grabbing a new pencil and returning to his work.

When lunch rolls around, Louis sits in the break room happily munching on a sub when Heather walks in, straightening out her black pencil skirt before sitting down next to Louis.

“You look more chipper than you did this morning,” She notes with a smile, pulling out a lunch of her own.

“Yeah,” Louis says, swallowing a bite that contained too much lettuce for his liking. “I was up late last night working on a project for school. I overslept this morning, and I can’t afford to be late anymore or I’ll get the boot.”

Heather looks at him surprised, putting a hand up to her mouth politely as she speaks directly after taking a bite of her salad. “You go to school?”

“I take online courses,” He informs her. “I don’t have time to go to an actual university, so,”

“Smart move on your part,” She says kindly, but then her smile turns personal, rather than professional. “I really hope you get out of this office. You don’t belong here.”

Louis isn’t sure what she means, and it must show on his face, because she speaks up again.

“You’re young, Louis.” She tells him. “So much potential. Plus, I think we could all breathe easier knowing that no one would fill our staff refrigerator with severed body parts,”

Louis grins, “That was one time!” He practically shouts, “and they were fake, anyway,” One of his best Halloween pranks, he reckons.

“Niall nearly shit himself!” Heather chastises, and Louis breaks out into a fit of giggles.

“Man, I _know,_ oh my goodness that was great,” Louis snickers, and Heather just rolls his eyes at him.

“You better be smiling about how wonderful your customer service skills are,” Jerry, their boss, says doubtfully as he strolls into the room.

Louis raises his eyebrows at him, ignoring the dubious glare he’s given. He really needs to get out of here.

+

 When Louis steps into the lobby of his apartment building at 5:30 he knows he looks a mess, feels a mess, and _is_ a mess, really. He’s lucky enough not to be stuck with anyone on the elevator, and when he gets home he slams the door shut because he’s 23 and he’s living on his own yet he still feels like someone’s in charge of him.

His apartment is a studio, it’s quaint but it’s open and Louis made it his own a long time ago, from the dent in the wall due to skateboarding inside to the smudges of toothpaste inside the sink.

He takes off his jeans and dress shirt once he steps in front of his dresser and he replaces them with a pair of sweatpants and a nice black t-shirt. He sticks his phone on the iPod dock and walks over to the kitchen, opening his freezer and taking out a microwavable lasagna.

He picks up the iPod dock remote and hits play, skipping until he finds a song that suits the mood he’s in.

Popping the corner open and throwing the lasagna in the microwave, Louis hits the _5, 0, 0,_ buttons with more force than necessary.

 _“Would you do anything for me?”_ He belts as he slams the microwave door shut. _“Buy a big diamond ring for me?”_ Louis opens his fridge and takes out a gallon of milk, pouring himself a glass. _“Pop that pretty question right now baby,”_

He’s unfazed when he hears his front door open and close, instead he whizzes around to face Meryl who stands frowning at him in the doorway. He knows Meryl heard the music from next door and stopped whatever she was doing (which probably wasn’t anything really important anyway) to come over.

 _“Beauty queen on a silver screen,”_ He points at her, singing at her dramatically. “ _Living life like I’m in a dream,”_

Meryl cracks a smile and shakes her head, reaching forward to grab Louis’ arm.

“What’s up?” She asks over the music, “you only listen to Marina when you’re feeling sad.”

Louis loves how well she knows him. “Don’t want to talk yet,” He tells her. “Sing with me.”

Meryl rolls her eyes and drops Louis’ arm, sidestepping him to grab the glass of milk he had poured, taking a sip.

 _“When you give, I want more, more, more, I want to be adored,”_ She shouts, and Louis grins like mad because honestly, what more do could he want in a friend?

 _“’cause I’m a primadonna girl, yeah, all I ever wanted was the world, I can’t help that I need it all, the primadonna life the rise and fall,”_ They sing to each other, dancing widely around Louis apartment, not caring if the people downstairs could hear them because this is something they do every so often and not a single complaint has been made yet.

 _“Got you wrapped around my finger babe, you can count on me to misbehave,”_ Louis takes Meryl into his arms and spins her around, laughing as she stumbles unsteadily on her feet.

When the song finishes, Meryl takes it upon herself to grab the iPod dock remote and switch the music off.

“You wanna tell me what’s wrong now?” She asks him. The microwave goes off before he can answer, and quickly grabs a plate from one of the cupboards.

“Life just sucks,” He says with a shrug, getting his lasagna out of the microwave and tearing open the packaging. “Like, I’m 23 right, and I know – I know I’m not supposed to have everything figured out, because sometimes people die without having any idea of what they – ow!” Louis burns his finger on the steam coming off the meal, and he sticks the abused finger in his mouth as he plops the lasagna onto the plate. “Of what they want,” He continues, “but like, I just feel so clueless, so _helpless, a_ nd I hate feeling like that.” He picks up a fork and takes a bite of his lasagna with a frown. “I think I need to get laid.” He says finally.

Meryl holds her hands up. “Don’t look at me,” She says, and Louis rolls his eyes.

“We’ve been neighbors for what, a year and a half? Definitely long enough to know I’m gay. Like really gay. Like, I’ll take one here,” he points to his open mouth, “here,” he points to his ear, “here, here, and here,” he points to random places all around his face.

Meryl laughs, her shoulders shaking as she drops onto Louis’ couch. “I know that, Louis. But if you ever get desperate enough, don’t come crawling to me.”

“I think it would be more of a reluctant stagger,” Louis says around another bite of lasagna.

Meryl snorts from her spot on the couch. “When was the last time you had sex anyway? Can’t remember seeing anyone coming from your door doing the walk of shame, recently.”

“Eh,” Louis says noncommittally. “There was a party a couple weeks ago at one of my co-workers houses, I had sex with his brother in one of the bedrooms.”

Meryl’s mouth falls open while making an amused sound. “Scandalous,” She drawls. “How was it?”

“Not good enough,” He says, finishing off his dinner. “He liked it doggy style.”

“Ew,”

“Hey,” Louis says, putting his dishes in the sink and rinsing them. “Doggy style isn’t that bad,”

“Are you kidding me?” Meryl asks, giving him a pointed look when he sits next to her on the couch, “No one like’s doggy style. Even the dogs are waiting for it to be over.”

Louis just looks at her for a minute, his lips pressed together in a smile.

“But, I see your problem,” Meryl sympathizes, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Sometimes when I feel overwhelmed I go for a walk.”

“A walk?” Louis asks with a raised eyebrow. “Isn’t that a little… teenager-y?”

“Are you saying you wouldn’t do anything to be a teenager again?”

Louis thinks for a moment. What he wouldn’t give to not have to pay rent. “Yeah true,” He allows, getting more comfortable on the couch by bringing his feet up and sitting crisscross. “So how do I take a walk?”

“You clear your mind, first. Or, well, sometimes that happens along the way, I guess. Make sure you look good, by the way. It helps your mindset.”

Louis nods. “Should I be taking notes?” He jokes.

“Make me lasagna,” Meryl says in response, giving Louis the sweetest and most fake smile he has ever seen.

“Make me a boyfriend,” He counters.

“Fine,” She grumbles, getting up from the couch and walking into Louis kitchen. “I’ll make my own lasagna.”

Louis tips his head back, watching as she prepares herself her own meal. “You owe me 5 bucks for that lasagna,” He says once she’s starting up the microwave.

“Ha!” She barks, “That’s funny,” She waggles a finger at him. “You’re funny, Lou.”

Louis sighs fondly at her, looking around for his TV remote. “Get the ice cream out of the freezer and bring it over, we’re having a sob fest. I deserve it.”

“Right,” Meryl agrees, opening the freezer and tossing him a carton of cookie dough ice cream.

“And a spoon ple-” a spoon hits him in the head before he can even finish his sentence.

+

Louis laces up his shoes, grabbing his coat and wondering when his life turned into him and his neighbor watching Jenifer Aniston romance movies all night long.

And replaying the sex scenes.

Whatever. They weren’t that good anyway. Well, Horrible Bosses was alright, but Louis would have much rather watched something with Chris Evans in it.

Can’t have it all.

As Louis looks up at the elevator and reads the ‘ _out of order’_ sign taped to the door, he decides that maybe some people aren’t meant to have anything. But then he runs into Meryl in the stairwell, and he quickly thinks that everyone at least gets something.

It’s pretty funny how fast people’s minds can change, isn’t it?

“T.G.I.F,” Meryl says with a grimace.

“Did you seriously just say that,” Louis replies with a wrinkle of his nose, his messenger bag settling against his hip in a familiar way.

“Yeah, I wanna save my breath, what’s so wrong with that?”

“You sounded old when you said that,”

“Change my diaper.” Meryl deadpans. “There. Sound young enough now?”

“It’s too early for me to be talking to you,” Louis decides, shoving her shoulder a bit as they walk out into the parking lot.

“So flattering,” Meryl mutters as she unlocks her car. Louis followers her, leaning against the side door as Meryl gets in. “I’ll see you later?”

“If we’re both unlucky enough,” He looks around the parking lot with a smile. “Yes,”

Meryl snorts at him. “You need a ride?”

“Nah, I got time. I need to learn how to take a walk anyways, remember?” He says with a grin.

“You’re so lame. Maybe I should just run you over.”

“I’ll pay you,” He responds monotonously. He reaches in through the open window and ruffles her hair, before turning on his heel and waving behind his back.

Meryl honks at him as she drives by a second later, and Louis swears she shouted something at him as well.  

It’s later that evening, after another dull day of taking phone calls and avoiding his boss at all costs (because _yes_ he was the one who filled the hand sanitizer bottles with lube, but that was only because Niall seemed in need of some cheering up), that he finally settles down on his couch in a pair of dark jeans and his lazy sweater.

He tips his head back and rubs his eyes, groaning loudly. It takes a minute, but in the silence of his apartment he can hear the squeaky voice of Meryl’s favorite pop singer coming from next door.

_Long straight hair, fly as a bird,_

_First time ever I was lost for words_

Louis is _this_ close to openly grimacing at Cody Simpson’s voice, but then he remembers that Meryl only listens to Cody Simpson when she’s –

“You have a date?” Louis shouts loudly through the wall, immediately running out of his apartment and throwing to door open to Meryl’s. “You have a date?” He asks again.

“Yes!” Meryl replies hurriedly, running up to Louis and grabbing his hand. “And I need you to do my hair for me.”

“Who’s the date with?” Louis asks, allowing himself to be dragged into Meryl’s bathroom.

“Charlie,” Meryl answers.

Louis collapses onto the floor with a dull thud. “Charlie?” He echoes, “As in, _the_ Charlie? As in, _you’ve been best friends for 20 years_ Charlie?”

“Yes, that Charlie! Now get up off the floor and curl my hair.”

“I refuse to move until you tell me what happened. You’ve been friends _forever,”_ Louis emphasizes, waving his hands around to add more emotion. “And you’re going to start dating now?”

Meryl’s quiet for a moment. Then she shrugs. “I realized I was in love. It’s always been right in front of me.”

Louis can’t really argue with that.

+

While Meryl is out doing who knows what with Charlie, Louis is left to his own devices. He considers watching TV, but he remembers how bad it stung when the How I Met Your Mother series finale sucked ass, so he doesn’t.

With one look out the window, Louis grabs his coat and heads out the door.

The cool air makes Louis’ body tense without his consent, and he wonders with an amused smile if his nipples are hard under his sweatshirt. He figures it doesn’t matter.

Clearing his head is harder than he thought it would be. He takes a deep breath, looking around the parking lot and deciding which way he should go on his walk.

In a split second he decides to walk in the opposite direction of his work building, because if he even s _mells_ the printer ink that wafts out of the front door he might just climb up to the roof and throw himself off of it.

The sun is just beginning to set, and the sky is such a beautiful sight, even from the streets. He aches for someone to share it with. Maybe he’ll call his mum later. But probably not, because every time he does she asks him about his life and the point of this walk is to get his mind off of everything.

He walks for quite a while, winding through streets and going down alleys and smiling at the people he passes because he’s anything but an asshole. Despite Meryl’s advice, he allows his mind to drift to his current problems, and he allows himself to be melancholy.

A splash of bright red against the gray of the concrete buildings catches his eye, and he looks both ways before crossing the street to make his way over.

It’s a glass case with a rose inside. _“In case of love at first sight: break glass,”_ it reads.

Louis snorts.

He snorts because, love at first sight doesn’t exist, and he finds it funny that someone might be desperate enough to actually grab the rose that’s inside. Take Meryl and Charlie, for example. It took them 20 _years_ before they got together!

He takes a step closer anyway, putting his finger on the glass and outlining the flower helplessly. No one has ever given him a rose before.

Huffing at himself, Louis turns on his heel and quickly glances around to make sure no one is watching him. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Louis decides that right now is as good as any for a nice warm cup of hot chocolate.

He walks for a little while longer until he approaches a small bakery. It’s quaint and cute and reminds him a lot of his apartment. Calm, safe, like nothing could ever go wrong if you’re surrounded by its light blue walls.

But then he walks in and there’s a boy behind the counter with flour dusting his cheeks and he’s grinning, handing a scone to a little girl with braided pigtails and Louis feels his world come crashing down around him.

Louis doesn’t know much about feelings, in fact, he’s spent most of his life trying to repress any and every form of them, but he can’t help the way his heart flutters, the way his lungs stop working when it feels like all he needs to do is breathe. He freezes, hand grasping the metal of the handle as he stands with the door open.

Louis wouldn’t be able to tell you if it was the first moment, or the second, or even the third, but something about the boy makes his mind drift back to the rose in the glass, makes him think, _this boy deserves a rose._

But he doesn’t want to leave, can’t physically force himself to even _think_ about moving from his spot.

Until, of course, a disgruntled woman tries to enter the door by slipping under his arm, effectively knocking him to the side a bit.

The boys’ eyes flash up at the sound of the metal door slamming shut as it slips out of Louis’ fingers in a way very similar to Louis’ hold on his own emotions. Their eyes lock and Louis feels his fingertips go numb at the smile the boy sends his way.

Louis is out of the store in a flash.

Running. He’s running down the street before he can really register what’s going on. He stops with a skid in front of the red box, the stupid red box that contains the rose he longs to give the beautiful boy behind the counter.

He looks around quickly for something to break the glass with, expecting to see a metal bar or _something_ , but instead finds nothing. Louis laughs at himself again, and honestly, he can’t believe he’s doing this, but he bends down and unties his shoe anyway, looking around hastily before smashing the bottom of his shoe into the glass.

It’s a lot louder than he thought it would be, and the glass falls around his feet and he curses as he avoids the shards but the rose stays perfectly in place. Louis’ mind fills with a bunch of poetic shit about how the rose represents love and lust and everything in between, but his senses are still on overdrive so he grabs the rose from its holster, shoves his shoe back on, and sprints back to the bakery.

He slows down once the side brick wall comes into view, and he straightens out his hair with one hand, holding the rose behind his back as he calms himself down and pushes him way inside. The woman that had ducked under his arm a minute earlier is now waiting impatiently for her drink, and the boy behind the counter is scrambling trying to get it to her.

Louis walks up to the counter slowly, leaning his stomach against the countertop as he waits.

“Here you are,” The boy says with a friendly smile, handing the woman her drink. The boys’ voice is wonderful, it’s deep and meaningful and it goes in Louis’ ears and flows through his veins like oxygen.

“Thanks,” She says, and Louis’ glad that even in her aggravated state she remains polite.

“You’re very welcome,” He replies in a voice much more kind. When he turns to Louis, Louis feels his hand grip the stem of the rose hard behind his back. “What can I get you?”

“A medium hot chocolate,” Louis says, his voice light and nervous. The boy just smiles though, and Louis slips the 10 dollar bill out of his pocket that he grabbed before he left. 

Louis’ hand is still clasping the rose behind his back, and he wonders if anyone of the store has caught a glimpse of it. When the boy slides him the hot chocolate, Louis hands him the money with a hand that shakes only a little bit.

Louis mouth is open a tad, his eyes wide as he and the boy just look at each other. Slowly, making sure Louis still has the boy’s attention on him, he slips the stem of the rose into the near empty tip jar resting on the counter.

Louis meets the boys’ eyes again, and he’s grinning, dimples appearing as he leans his elbows onto the counter.

“I did that with romantic intent,” Louis says dumbly, realizing he sounds like an idiot but is too focused on the lovely way the boy bites his lip to hold back a smile to care.

“I’ve never been flirted with like that before,” The boy says slowly, meeting Louis’ eyes. “Looks like you really _rose_ the bar with that one.”

Louis laughs without opening his mouth, he air puffing out his cheeks before he lets it out in a grin.

“I’m sorry that wasn’t funny. That was not funny.” He laughs though, before picking up the rose and holding it delicately in his fingers. “My name is Harry.”

_Harry._

“Harry,” Louis says aloud, the name feeling right on his lips. “I’m Louis.”

“Louis,” Harry drawls out, slowly and surely. “I was hoping I’d learn your name. When you left the shop I kept trying to look out the windows to see if you’d come back. That woman was grumpy because I had to ask her to repeat her order twice,” He admits with no shame in his voice.

Louis blushes, hiding his face behind the cup of hot chocolate he brings to his lips. Harry reaches under the counter and pulls out a notepad and a pen, and scribbles his number down.

“Call me sometime,” Harry says as he rips the piece of paper and hands it to Louis.

But Louis, Louis wants to stay. “Can I – would you mind if -” He doesn’t know what to say. “What time do you get off?”

Harry looks around the shop, seeming to be considering something. “I’m supposed to close up at 9,” He pauses, his lips twitching up in a smile. “But, people usually stop walking in at 8. You’re free to stay,” Harry lifts the rose up to his nose to smell it, smiling at Louis.

Louis looks around the store, trying really hard to keep the blush off his cheeks. “So Harry, tell me about yourself,” It’s a dumb question, Louis knows this. He’s just – he wants nothing more than to listen to Harry talk, to watch how Harry’s lips form around every word as they flow out of his mouth like honey, making Louis feel content and sated. And when Harry immediately dives into a story about his family, Louis decides that he is really, really thankful for that little red box.

+

True to his word, Harry looks at Louis with a mischievous grin as he flips the ‘open’ sign to ‘closed’.

“Thank you for doing this, Harry. I know you don’t have to, and what I did was a little uncalled for-”

“Louis,” Harry says with a smile, dropping the sign so it lays motionless against the window. “I feel it too.”

Louis doesn’t ask what. He knows what. The humming in their chests, the flicker in the bottom of their stomachs, the way their eyes are wider. Louis knows what.

“Tell me about yourself,” Louis asks, and Harry walks up to him, a tiny frown on his pretty face.

“I already did,” Harry reminds him. “I told you where I was from, I told you about my sister, and my mum, and my cat-”

Louis shakes his head, walking up to Harry and grabbing Harry’s fingers shyly, as if he’s afraid to touch. “I don’t – I don’t mean like that. I mean, I want to know your birthday and your parents jobs and if you’ve ever heard them fighting or having sex and if you love your sibling and the worst fight you’ve ever gotten into and what you wanted to be when you grew up when you were seven and your dream vacation and the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to you and if you’ve been to therapy and if it helped and the hardest thing you’ve experienced and how you overcame it and if you like what you see when you look in the mirror and if you think appearances matter in a relationship or at all and your favorite movie and which books changed your life and the hardest you’ve ever cried and which grandparent you loved the most and if the words ‘we need to talk’ make you sick to your stomach and why and which holiday is your favorite and which season and which color and if you like rain and if you’re scared of dying and if you believe in God and if you have allergies and to what and what your favorite food is and restaurant and if you like to cook and whether or not you care about cleanliness and what your political views are and if you’re a feminist and your favorite flower and song and if you’d rather own a cat or a dog and if you’d shave off all your hair to give it to a little girl going through chemotherapy and where you’d like to live and honeymoon and what kind of gum and candy you like and what you act like when you’re mad and if you’d rather someone buy you silver or gold jewelry or neither and what clique you were in in high school and what you think your spirit animal is and which flower you’d be and who you admire and which traits you wish were more dominant and if you ever worry you’re a shitty person and what hurt you the most and why you ever thought you were worthless and how someone can make you feel better when you’re sad and if you prefer hugs or kisses and what your house looks like and what your dream car is and which celebrity you think lives the most tragic life and why you think people become so cold and what you think about nature vs nurture and if you believe in heaven and aliens and mermaids and reincarnation and the bible and which feeling is your least favorite and what was the best day you ever had and what would be the best day and if you see yourself as the protector or one who needs protecting and how you deal with your pain and what you would do if you had 100 million dollars and if you think wealth affects people’s morals and what good you think writing is and if you could do it all over, would you and what would you change and what mistake was your biggest and which language you wish you spoke fluently and how many people you’ve loved and if you loved the person you lost your virginity to and if you realize you’re remarkable and what your enneagram is and how you think we could improve the education system and what you think of people who commit suicide and if you think they’re selfish and what you say to them before they did it if you could and what your favorite memory of your childhood is and how you take your tea or if you prefer coffee and when you last wrote someone a handwritten letter and what the best gift you ever received was and what the best piece of advice was and when the last time you cried was and if you’re competitive about board games and which is your favorite and if you feel pressured to settle down and what you notice first in a person and what your top three pet peeves are and if you have any phobias and what you’ve always wanted to do but don’t have the courage to go through with and what you do when you feel overwhelmingly sad and if you ski and if plastic surgery was 100% safe and painless, would you get it and where and why and where you think home is and if you think politeness is important and what you think of indecisive people and if you think there’s ever a reason to go to war and something that scares you and if you believe in therapy and what you want in life and what you look for in a partner and what you want to change about yourself and about the world and who you want to be and who you are. Just tell me who you are."

Louis takes a deep breath, his lungs feeling empty as Harry just stares at him, a mixture of awed and overwhelmed.

“My name is Harry Styles, and that rose you gave me is the only rose I have ever been given.” Harry closes his mouth and intertwines his and Louis’ fingers as their chests press together. Louis slowly realizes that Harry isn’t going to say anything more.

“I think I asked you a lot more questions than that,” He says breathlessly, his gaze unwavering as he looks at Harry.

Harry just smiles at him, using his free hand to tip Louis’ chin up as he kisses him. Their noses bump together and Louis smiles a bit, loving how well they just _fit._ Louis takes Harry’s bottom lip into his mouth and bites gently at it, Harry’s warm breath entering Louis mouth with something like a content sigh.

When Louis pulls away a second later, he keeps his eyes closed for a moment, and Harry’s hand slowly slip away from his chin. Harry’s lips are soft against Louis’ cheek, and Louis smiles when he feels them there.

Harry’s looking down at him, his eyes soft and affectionate. “You’re good at that,” he says.

Louis barks out a laugh, the noise sounding oddly loud in the quiet setting. “I already gave you a rose, Harry. There’s no need to flatter me.”

“I would never get plastic surgery, even if it was 100% safe and painless. Now either take the compliment or kiss me again,”

And really, how can Louis argue with that?

+

A week later they have their first date. Their first _proper_ date, anyway.

Louis is standing in his apartment wearing nothing other than boxer briefs and an undershirt, and he really can’t decide what to wear. Either his blue button down, or his white button down. The blue one brings out his eyes but the white one really clings to his waist line the right way…

With a grumble and a grimace, Louis puts his iPhone on the iPod dock and opens YouTube. About 15 minutes later Cody Simpson’s voice is like nails on a chalkboard, but he turns up the volume anyway.

_There’s no way to say this song’s, about someone else_

_Every time you’re not in my arms, I start to lose myself_

Meryl throws herself through the front door a minute later and before Louis can even turn around to greet her he’s shutting the music _off._

“Whoa, naked,” She observes, plopping herself down on Louis’ bed.

“Not really,” Louis rolls his eyes, walking over to his dresser and slipping on tight black jeans.

“Do you like Cody Simpson now?” Meryl asks with a smirk.

“The moment I like Cody Simpson is the moment I give you permission to flush me down the toilet.”

Meryl’s eyes get brighter and she sits up straight. “So you have a date then?” She asks excitedly.

Louis nods. “And I need your help deciding what to-”

“With who!” The girl cuts him off excitedly. “What’s his name? Where’d you meet him? What does he look like?”

“Can you please just help me pick out a shirt before I throw you out?” Louis says with a smile. “His name is Harry, and I met him at a bakery now please, white shirt or blue shirt?” He grabs each shirt from where they’re hanging in his closet and he holds them up for Meryl to see.

“The blue one.” Meryl says. “Definitely the blue one.”

Louis slips it on and buttons it up without question. He then reaches for a pair of all black vans, slipping them on silently while Meryl watches.

“Aren’t you gonna put on socks first?” She asks.

Louis smiles at her. “I never wear socks.”

Meryl makes a sound between a scoff and a snort and Louis just ties his laces up before sitting down next to her on the bed. He checks the time and sees that he has twenty minutes until he has to leave. Huh, that went a lot quicker than he had planned. He expecting some shouting to happen. Some, throwing things at each other, maybe.

“So how are things with Charlie?” Louis asks.

“Good.” Meryl says as she turns her head to look at him, her lips upturned and her eyes crinkly. “I love him a lot.” She says, and it’s clear in her tone that she does.

“I’m happy for you,” Louis smiles.

“I hope it all works out with whoever you’re after, Lou.” She smiles, and yeah, Louis really hopes that too.

+

Their dinner is lovely. The first thing Harry does when Louis walks up to their reserved table is compliment Louis on his shirt. The restaurant is tiny, and it’s on the same street as the bakery which means it isn’t that crowded. There’s stage and a live band and an open dance floor, where couples are slow dancing in the center of it all.

Louis and Harry had been texting all week, but between both of their jobs and Louis’ online school, Louis’ only had time to visit the bakery twice.

Louis orders pasta and Harry orders chicken, and Harry nudges Louis’ foot under the table while Louis twirls some noodles around his fork.

“You look really nice,” Harry tells him, and Louis blushes.

“You do too.” Louis replies. “Like, I’d rather stare at you than stare at Tom Daley. And _that’s_ saying something.”

Harry chuckles, biting his tongue as he emits a face splitting grin, and Louis wants to lean over and kiss him. He wants to card his fingers through Harry’s hair, maybe drop a chaste kiss where his hair meets his temple and feel how the strands would tickle his own lips into a smile.

By the time they’re almost done, the music slows down and then picks up again, and Harry is immediately humming around the sip of water he has in his mouth.

“I love this song,” Harry says, standing up and grabbing Louis’ hand. “Dance with me,”

Louis doesn’t know this song. Louis also doesn’t know how to dance.

“Please,” Harry pouts, sensing Louis’ hesitance.

“Okay,” Louis says quietly, standing up and letting himself be led to the dance floor.

_Wise men say, only fools rush in,_

_But I can’t help falling in love with you_

Louis tips his head back in silent laughter as Harry’s arms wrap around his waist, and Louis brings his arms around Harry's shoulder as he bites back a smile. “Seriously?” He asks with amusement.

“Hey,” Harry defends, gently swaying the two of them together. “You’ve got no room to talk, you slipped a rose into my tip jar,”

“That was clever,” Louis argues, “this is just downright sappy.”

“Oh yeah,” Harry says with a smile. “Well I think you’re downright lovely,”

“Oh God,” Louis groans quietly, leaning forward to rest his head on Harry’s shoulder. “Get me out of here,” He whimpers desperately.

Harry’s laugh is light and warm against Louis’ ear. “We can leave if you’d like,” Harry tells him. “Go outside, get some fresh air.”

Louis picks his head up, his nose brushing against Harry’s cheek. “I was joking, love,” Louis informs, “But a walk sounds like a wonderful idea.”

They stay on the floor until the song ends, though, and the only lyrics Louis can hear over the beat of Harry’s heart are, _so won't you please take my hand, and take my whole life too, cause I can't help falling in love, in love with you._

Eventually Harry and pays for their meals (after much debate from Louis), and they set off into the cool night. Harry bumps their hips together and grabs Louis’ hand, tangling their fingers together.

“When I was little I always brought lunch to school, I never bought it.” Harry says randomly. Louis knows it’s not random, though. He knows that every once in a while Harry will just tell him some extremely random and seemingly irrelevant fact about himself, but Louis loves it. They’re all a part of who Harry is, after all.

“I brought lunch too,” Louis says, a slight skip in his step as he swings their hands between them. “Except for on the days when they sold pizza, because the pizza was always from this place downtown and it was _so_ _good,”_ Louis groans, looking up at the sky as Harry pulls Louis into his chest, dropping a quick kiss to his forehead before kissing Louis’ lips.

“I’m really glad you came into the bakery,” Harry says confidently but almost inaudibly. “For the longest time I felt like I was missing something. Like there was more to life than what I was getting, you know? And then you walked in, and left, and I thought, ‘ _wow, I was possibly this close to solving all my problems and you just walked out’._ But then you came _back,_ and with a – with a _rose?_ Like, _God,_ where did you even _get_ that thing-”

Louis shuts him up with a kiss because yes Harry is rambling and no Louis has no intentions on telling Harry where he got the rose, mainly because it’s embarrassing. _Love at first sight._ As if. Well, maybe. Possibly.

“You should shut up now,” Louis says with flushed cheeks, referring to both Harry and the voice in his head.

“Yeah,” Harry says with a slight smile. “Yeah, I agree.”

“Come on, then,” Louis urges with a nod of his head, leaning forward to kiss Harry one more time before he’s leading Harry back down the street.

When they pass the bakery Harry makes them stop by so he can say hello to the old woman who’s working the counter, and Louis loves how passionate he is about the tiny place.

Louis thinks for a moment that maybe _he_ should start being more passionate about _his_ workplace, but then he remembers that he had a thirty minute argument with a customer because their password wasn’t working and they refused to listen to him when they told him that maybe, just maybe, they had left their caps lock on by mistake (they had). Louis represses the urge to openly dry heave. Customer’s always right his ass.

When they leave the bakery they walk for about two minutes before Harry stops. “What’s that thing?” He asks, pointing across the street and squinting against the dark.

Louis recognizes the bright red box in a second.

“I don’t know,” Louis says, trying his best to lead Harry away. “Maybe an alarm for the building or something, a fire extinguisher, maybe?”

Harry shakes his head. “I don’t think so.” He says, not taking his eyes off of the box. “I’ve never seen that before.” Harry drops Louis’ hand to cross the street and Louis jogs to catch up with him.

“I’d really rather not, actually, uh, this side of the street gives me a headache, like, with the cars? And the light’s they shine? Gets in my eyes and stuff, maybe we should-” Louis tries to step in front of Harry and push him back onto the sidewalk opposite of the red box, but it’s like, Harry’s chest is solid under  Louis’ palms and the way Harry grabs Louis’ wrists with an annoyed grunt of, _‘Louis,’_ really does something to him, okay?  

He keeps his eyes closed as Harry drags him up to the box.

“In case of love at fi…” Harry trails off, and Louis can’t tell whether that’s a good thing of a bad thing. “Louis,” Harry says a moment later, and Louis decides that it’s most definitely a bad thing. “Louis,” Harry repeats, and Louis cracks one eye open.

“Uh,” He squeaks.

“So that’s where you got the rose,” Harry says, sounding breathless. Turning his head slightly, Louis sees that the box is perfectly intact, glass replaced and unbroken, and a new rose stands up in perfect place.

“Yeah,” Louis gives in, his cheeks a dark shade of red because Harry has long since dropped his wrist, and now isn’t even looking at him.

“In case of love at first sight,” Harry says again, and Louis hides his face in his hands.

The sound of glass shattering surprises Louis a great amount.

Louis opens his eyes to see Harry standing in front of the now destroyed box, a metal bar in his hands. Wait, a metal bar? Was there a metal bar there the _whole time?_

“Where’d you get that bar?” Louis asks.

It’s the first time Harry’s looked at him since they’ve walked over. He doesn’t even answer.

Instead, he grabs the rose and crowds Louis up against the brick wall, the glass crunching under their feet.

“In case of love at first sight,” Harry recites, holding out the rose for Louis.

Louis looks down at it and then back up at Harry. Louis takes the rose carefully, accepting the slow kiss Harry gives him as well. Louis has never gotten a rose before. “Break the glass,”

**Author's Note:**

> olivias my name and super cheesy endings are my game
> 
>  
> 
> [tumblr](http://dimpledlouis.tumblr.com/)


End file.
